Why do you keep me in this place?

Laying pathways of treasure boxes with tarnished padlocks is your game.
What have I to gain from this?
Slaps to the face disguised as bliss.

I can never be truly fulfilled
Because I fear I may be killed.
I'm unwilling to part with my heart,
Because I worry it is only a plaything.
Am I wasting it on you?

I admit I trusted you with ease
Because I wanted to please you.
My kindness came without tether,
But you flaunt as if you are better.

Why do I even try?
I don't know how to cry.

Do my cracks make you smile?
Do my stinging tears excite you?

I'm glad my grief warms you
As it leaves me dying inside.

I will not swallow my pride.

As the sun slips away to die in the eve,
I lie in wait for your thunderous howl.
My knees quiver and my tail shivers
Under intrusive moonlight so bright.

My claws rake against the fragile wood--
Would you? O, would you howl for me?

I give chase; though, I long for embrace.
A feline may flee, but she is flighty.
Nothing satisfies the hunger more than the way you sprint to me.
Am I a tease? Or does my game please you?

The hunter in you craves the chase more than I do.
Be you wolf or not, I can outrun you--
And yet, it is not my desire to.

I throw my race and give up the chase under the ghostly moon for now.

I do not flee you anymore.
I want to make you howl.

Do you love the ripples of my body?

Watch me move like water between your silken sheets and splay myself bare.
I am not carved of wood like you; nay, I am shaped like waves under a thunderous sky.
My skin is made of salt and sea, glittering under the weeping moon.
Drown yourself in the swell of waves upon my vast *****.
Swim within me and know the curves of my body as Odysseus knew his path.
Drink me like wine until you are gasping for air against my lips.
Trace the wide plains of my hips, caressed by ocean like a sunken ship.

Count my ripples: forevermore, they are yours.

Deep in unharrowed woodlands sleeping, beneath the towering willows weeping,
Unmarred by the intrusive light of dawn rests he, the melodic faun.
Upon right shoulder rests his bow and 'round his horns flowers grow.
Catching hearts of both maiden and hag is his unabashed and shameless brag.
With a flex of wrist he summons the wind and leaves all care and woe behind;
And yet, his rest is restless still as the forest decays and grows ill.
Great faun, will your goddess flourish once more, or will she leave you on the forest floor?
The faun laughs and shrugs his shoulders, ever warm as the night grows colder,
"No maiden, queen, or crone can refuse me place on her throne!
I am your heart's desire; and thus, the wood shall never expire!"
Deep in unharrowed woodlands sleeping, beneath the towering willows weeping,
Lies the goddess with her faun, blending star-filled night and shining dawn.

If kisses could drink stars like poison from wounds, I would plant my lips all over you.
The pink of my skin mixing with your mauve brings meaning to this darkened grove.
And lo, the way the moonlight drips down your breast fills me with such cruel unrest.
As comets trace down the curve of your spine, I wonder of your contours divine.
A nebula exists within your eyes; alas, your beauty is my demise.
I feel my heart begin to expire as your supernova ignites my fire.
Your voice is starlight blending with crystal sea--
O, what a galaxy you must be, hidden so long from me!

Ah bliss! I, the subliminal linguist, can't distinguish this thing that you imply with such meaning. I relinquish my hold and go down screaming.

So, I melt into oblivion because life
is a trivial pursuit I've yet to latch onto, dripping between my fingers
like water through wood cracks.

Is it my own selfishness that burns
bridges between us?

No, it's yours. You stapled a label on me that can't be ripped, stripped, or torn, but I am not your fixer-upper *****.

Does my insubordination bore you?
Tell it to my "commitment issues."
The only issue is I grew faster than you, more masterful than you.

I am not your tamed shrew.

I refuse to be used by you, friendship abused by you and your confusion with your own emotions. I am not an island in your ocean of incompetence.

Frankly, my dear, **** this.

I fear change.

My starless sky is cracked like a freshly born scar from a battle I'd never win.
Am I ever going to feel empty again?
Because emptiness was a comfort that I couldn't confront--
So I sighed, and I denied myself wholeness, never trusting my own boldness.
And here you are smiling, all the while unwrapping me like a birthday gift and not even questioning if I'm worth the price.

It must be nice--oh, must be nice to never question!

I am a product of apathy blending with unrelenting hope, frustrated with no way to cope.
And it surprises me that I elicit any kind of rise from you.
If the the moon reflects the sun, do I reflect you?
My fear is inferior to my own desires, and so I plunge into this fire.

I need change.